Nia sat on the edge of the worn-out sofa in the dimly lit parlor, the echoes of last night's chilling melody still haunting her mind. The mansion had seemed to hold its breath ever since they had discovered the black rose door. Every creak of the floorboards, every shadow that flickered in the corner of her eye, felt like a warning.
The others moved quietly around her, their faces pale and drawn. Aarav paced near the window, his fingers tapping nervously against the glass. Mira stood close to the door, arms crossed tightly, as if holding back a storm inside.
"We can't ignore it anymore," Aarav said finally. "Whatever that song was... it means something. It's a message."
Nia swallowed her fear and nodded. "We need to go back. To that door."
---
The house groaned as they moved through the narrow hallway. The black rose door loomed before them, the intricate carving twisting and curling like thorns around a single perfect bloom. Nia's hand trembled as she reached for the cold brass handle.
With a soft creak, the door opened.
Inside was a small chamber, walls lined with faded tapestries and cracked portraits. Dust hung in the air like a thick fog. At the center stood the mirror — tall, framed with thorny black roses, glass shimmering even in the low light.
Nia stepped forward. Her reflection stared back — but then, the surface rippled like disturbed water.
The glass fogged over, and a face appeared — pale, beautiful, and sorrowful. Eyes filled with sadness and secrets.
"Samira."
The voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed in the room. The others gasped.
Nia's heart raced as she reached out, her fingers almost touching the cool surface. The mirror fogged again, and words began to form:
"Find the black rose. Find my truth."
---
Aarav stepped forward, voice steady. "This is more than a haunting. This is a cry for justice."
Mira's eyes narrowed. "But what truth? And why show it to us?"
Nia swallowed hard. "Because we're the ones who will finally listen."
The mirror shimmered again, and for a moment, the glass became a window — showing a scene inside the mansion, but years earlier.
Two men argued fiercely — the Mira twins, Nathaniel and Gregory. Between them stood Samira, her face pale and fearful.
"You can't keep hiding her," Samira pleaded.
Nathaniel's voice was cold. "She's a liability. The family's reputation must come first."
Gregory's hand clenched into a fist. "We'll handle it. No one will know."
Samira's eyes met the viewer's — full of desperation.
---
The vision ended abruptly, and the mirror's surface returned to normal.
Nia turned to her friends, voice trembling. "Samira wasn't just a ghost. She was family — and she was erased."
Mira looked closely at the frame. "The black rose — it's a symbol of betrayal."
Aarav pulled out the small journal they'd found in the library. "I found more about the inheritance dispute. It wasn't just money. Someone wanted Samira gone, erased from the family history."
---
The group spent hours poring over old letters, diaries, and photographs. Each piece added to the picture — a story of jealousy, secrets, and a curse cast long ago.
Nia felt the weight of it all pressing down on her. But beneath the fear was a growing resolve.
"We have to tell her story," she said. "For Samira. For the mansion."
---
That night, Nia dreamt again.
She was inside the mansion, but it was alive — vibrant and whole. Laughter echoed through the halls, footsteps on marble floors.
She followed the sound to a hidden room, where Samira stood, waiting.
"Thank you," Samira whispered, her voice like a breeze. "You're breaking the curse."
Nia reached out, but the vision faded — leaving her alone in the darkness.
---
Morning came, but peace did not.
The mansion whispered its secrets, shadows twisted in corners, and the mirror waited — silent but watching.
Nia knew their journey was only beginning.
----
The morning light filtered weakly through the cracked windows, casting long shadows across the floorboards. Nia sat at the kitchen table, a growing pile of aged letters and brittle photographs spread before her. Aarav poured two cups of tea and set one in front of her without a word.
The silence between them was heavy.
"This family," Aarav began quietly, "it's like their history was written to hide everything—every secret, every betrayal."
Nia nodded, scanning another letter, the faded ink barely legible.
"July 12, 1871 — Nathaniel writes to Gregory: 'The girl must disappear before she ruins us all. The black rose will be our seal.'"
"The black rose…" Nia whispered. "A symbol of the curse."
---
Mira paced the room, frustration clear on her face.
"This isn't just a family feud," she said sharply. "This is evil. There's something darker at work—something unnatural."
Aarav frowned. "Like the mirror?"
Mira nodded. "That mirror isn't just a window to the past. It's a gateway — a prison for the souls caught in this curse."
Nia shivered. The memory of Clara's pale reflection and now Samira's sorrowful eyes flooded her mind.
"How do we break it?" she asked.
Mira hesitated, then produced a small leather-bound book from her bag — a book of old rituals and family lore.
"There's a ritual," Mira said. "One that could undo the curse — but it requires something very rare: the black rose itself, grown from the blood of the betrayed."
Nia's heart skipped. "A real black rose?"
Mira nodded grimly. "But it only blooms where the curse's power is strongest—here, in the mansion's heart."
---
That evening, the group gathered in the grand hall, candlelight flickering against peeling wallpaper.
Nia stood before the mirror once more, heart pounding.
"Samira," she whispered, "we're coming for you. We'll end this."
The mirror's surface shimmered, the black rose vines around its edges seeming to pulse with life.
Suddenly, a gust of cold wind swept through the room, blowing out candles and plunging them into darkness.
A voice — low, bitter, and filled with rage — echoed from the shadows.
"Leave this place. The curse will consume you all."
---
The lights flickered back on.
Aarav's hand gripped Nia's arm. "It's warning us."
Nia swallowed fear and straightened her spine.
"We don't run," she said firmly.
Mira opened the leather book, lighting a candle with trembling hands.
They began the ritual — chanting ancient words, tracing symbols in the air, calling to the spirits trapped within the mansion.
The mirror fogged and rippled violently, the surface cracking with spiderweb fractures.
Nia felt a pull — like being dragged through water.
Suddenly, the black rose in the mirror's frame glowed bright red — a single, perfect bloom — and a voice whispered:
"The truth will set us free — but beware the cost."
---
The room fell silent. The mirror stood still, the black rose fading back to thorny black.
Nia's breath was ragged.
"We found it," she said. "The rose."
Aarav looked toward the door.
"We need to find where it grows. Now."
---
They moved through the mansion's depths — basements, hidden corridors, forgotten gardens.
Finally, in a secret greenhouse long overtaken by weeds and shadows, they found it.
A single black rose, blooming eerily in the moonlight — its petals glistening like spilled ink.
Nia reached out — and the air grew thick with whispers.
The voices of the betrayed — Clara, Samira, and others — filled the room.
"We are trapped," they said. "Bound by blood and lies."
Nia felt tears sting her eyes.
"We'll free you," she promised.
---
But as she plucked the rose, a deafening crash echoed through the mansion.
The walls shook. The floor trembled.
The curse was fighting back.
---
Rushing upstairs, they found the mansion's great hall transformed.
Shadows twisted into monstrous forms — dark reflections of the Mira twins, their faces twisted with malice.
Nathaniel's voice boomed:
"You meddle with forces beyond your reckoning. The curse will claim you all."
Gregory laughed — cruel and cold.
Nia raised the black rose, its dark petals shining defiantly.
"This ends tonight."
---
A fierce battle of wills erupted — shadows clashing with light, curses battling hope.
Nia's voice rang out, steady and strong, chanting the ritual's final words.
The black rose blazed with light, burning away shadows.
The monstrous twins screamed as they dissolved into dust.
---
When silence returned, the mansion felt lighter — freer.
The mirror's surface was clear and still.
Nia approached it slowly.
Her reflection smiled back — no delay, no distortion.
Behind her, the ghostly faces of Clara and Samira appeared — peaceful at last.
They whispered thanks, then faded into light.
---
Nia turned to Aarav and Mira, exhaustion and relief flooding her.
"We did it."
But deep inside, a new question stirred.
The curse was broken, but the mansion's secrets weren't finished.
The black rose had shown its power — and its price.
---
Outside, dawn broke over the ruins of Damria Mansion.
A new day — but the story was far from over.
To be continued....